Unforgiving Hate and Sorrowful Eyes
by ArkytiorOswinSong
Summary: After rebelling and leaving for San Francisco, Nico di Angelo's older sister, Bianca dies from a freak car accident. Returning to the same city years after, Nico is faced with the driver who killed Bianca in the form of Percy Jackson. Nico is determined to never forgive the man with the sorrowful eyes but Percy aims to change that. I DO NOT OWN THE COVER IMAGE!
1. Prologue: How it Started

**Unforgiving Hate and Sorrowful Eyes by ArkytiorOswinSong**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or its characters. Nor is the image I used for the fic cover is mine. Don't sue.**

**Pairing: NicoxPercy mainly**

**Plot: Nico di Angelo lost his best friend and sister to a freak car accident when he was sixteen. And the driver inside the car that hit her appears years later in the form of Percy Jackson. Despite his turbulent feelings for the man, he finds that forgiving is impossible.**

**Prologue: How It Started**

* * *

It was raining that day like as if sky was weeping. Cold, hard droplets of icy rain patted down on the di Angelo home in what was supposed to be sunny California torrentially.

Nico di Angelo tried his best to focus on his English assignment inside his room/attic. This dyslexia thing was making it near impossible and he found that he couldn't sit still due to his ADHD.

Dyslexia and ADHD sadly ran through in family.

"-you can't!" his father's boomed through the headphones. Nico pulled the earplugs out of his ear, wondering what got his father, who was notorious for having a temper as do most men in his family, got him in such a temperament.

He abandoned his work to go to the source of his father's voice which was still roaring through the house all the way to the study. The door was left slightly ajar and Nico peeked through it to find his sister standing firmly in front of her father's desk, father and daughter locked in a heated argument.

"The Hunters Company said I had potential – great potential! Even their vice president came down personally to invite me. Me!" Nico's sister, Bianca, shouted at her father, making several gestures with her arms.

"And I said no as I will again, Bianca!" Hades roared back. "I couldn't care less if the Queen came down to invite you for tea."

"Daddy," Bianca used a pleading tone and Nico knew she was using her puppy face, "you know how much being a dancer means to me."

"Obviously, you've become hard of hearing, my dear daughter. No. N-O. _Non, nein, ohee, bú_. No."

Bianca furiously growled, yelled at Hades that he was a stubborn pale-ass goat and stormed out of the room.

Nico watched his sister stomped down the hallway, banging doors, yelling. His sister wasn't one to blow her temper so seeing this scared Nico. He glanced back to his father inside his study, hands clasped, eyes darkened, scarily and silently simmering.

It was only moments that Nico followed his sister to front of her bedroom door where it was locked. Nico knocked once – twice, quietly waiting, before saying, "Sis, it's me. Do you want to talk?"

Silence. A silence that screamed _do-I-sound-like-I-wanna-talk?!_ Nico waited patiently for her answer, if she ever answered.

Bianca opened her door five minutes later, heaving and panting, an unfamiliar fire in her eyes. "Nico," she said, breathing easier. "Get a bag, suitcase, whatever, we're leaving this place."

"What?"

"You heard me. We're leaving – _now_."

Nico opened his mouth to protest but then there was this frightening look on his sister's face that said she was not to be messed with. He went back to his room, thinking that she would back out in twelve or so hours when she cooled down, emptying his school bag of its contents and filling it with clothes (he was playing along), snacks, his phone, papers for being on the road, his wallet and his laptop.

He got a text from his sister as soon as he finished packing_. I don't know but u have 2 sneak out. ~BdA_. Luckily, he wasn't carrying much so he managed to sneak out of his window and scaled down the wall of his family's three storey house without fuss. Well if you called going down a pipe in a rainstorm "without a fuss".

His sister was waiting for him, her silver convertible ready to go, bags in the backseat. Sunglasses were on her face to hide her stormy eyes.

Nico hopped into the seat next to the driver's, sliding his bag between his feet, Bianca climbing in later.

"Shouldn't we tell Dad we're going?" Nico asked her.

Bianca chuckled. "Hell, no." And she slammed her foot on the accelerator, speeding onto the high-class streets of Los Angeles.

Nico gripped the oh-shit handle so tight that he was sure made little crescent moon indents. When their phone rang, Bianca's turned hers off and Nico followed suit.

Nico felt like a teen rebel in one of those old American movies where the main character would defy the authorities – and their parents – by doing sometime explosive and running away.

Nico put on the heater in the car to a comfortable temperature that it sunk into his bones.

"So, um, Bibi," Nico used her childhood endearment for his sister. "Where are we going?"

"San Francisco, _Neeks_," she answered. "I have a meeting there with one of the Hunters Company people in a week."

It was night at Los Angeles, a blur on skyscrapers, the high-end Hollywood scene where many naïve teenagers' stars came to seek their fame. Not many made the cut turning to teaching, sucky jobs or back home with broken dreams.

Nico knew this because their father owned DOA Records, one of the biggest record companies in the world.

Nico leaned back into his seat comfortably when his sister slowed down in a seventy zone. "The dance thing, you were serious about it."

"Yes, I am," she stated, focused on the road in front of her.

"Well, uh, good for you. That Hunters thing is pretty big. In fact, congratulations. You should have told me. I would have thrown a party!" Nico chuckled.

Bianca grinned, lightening up and then her expression darkening. "Dad doesn't seem to think so. It's always "no, Bianca, you can't do that" and "Bianca, that is silly!"" she whined irritably. "Well, you know what, Dad," she hissed. "I don't give a rat's ass about you say anymore!"

"But what if Dad –"

"You and your buts, Neeks! We are never going back!" Bianca interrupted him loudly. "Don't worry! I know you and Dad were never … on the best of terms."

True. Hades loved Bianca – at least until her spectacular rebellion – while he tended to holler and put Nico down on a daily basis.

"But … San Francisco … it's going to be a new beginning for us. I'm going to be a dancer, you … well, I don't know about you but I'm sure you'll be big," she said, "or do something important."

* * *

"God, why are we having so much rainy weather?" muttered Bianca, climbing into the car, Nico sitting on his usual seat.

Ripples and waves of rain soaked the dash heavily. Nico heard of San Francisco's weather before. Nice and sunny but apparently ever since the di Angelo siblings arrived to the city it had been cloudy, cold and really rainy.

"Maybe it's crying," said Nico quietly. He was tired and exhausted. Three weeks. The hardest three weeks of his life.

They had gotten a crappy apartment in the more slummy parts of the city, with a three-star view of a derelict street that dealt with gangs, hoodlums and drugs. Nico had been working a job before and after school, Bianca four jobs plus dance rehearsals with the Hunters.

She had been good – really good. Already she had gotten a lead part in Swan Lake, an upcoming production as a fairy or forest animal, Nico wasn't sure. It was still tough though. Bianca mentioned that there were some unpleasant characters.

"Maybe," Bianca sighed, starting the car.

No word, letter, or even hint came from their father. Nico decided that Hades didn't want anything to do with his children anymore. It still worried him greatly.

Bianca had sorta changed. More independent, demanding, bossy – tougher. Nico and Bianca still talked and did sibling stuff like fight. She had stopped cooing over him and grown more mature.

Since Nico couldn't sulk about it, he was … _adjusting_.

"Be careful, it's night-time, Bibi," Nico told his sister, warily eyeing the darkness outside and the blurry shape of the car lights.

Bianca raised her eyebrow and smiled. "Look who's suddenly my driving instructor."

"Look who's suddenly a prima donna. Out all night practicing and coming with lead parts."

Bianca's grip on the wheel tightened and color flushed to her cheeks. Nico knew he stepped on a touchy subject.

"Look, Nico," Bianca said. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Are you …" Bianca looked uncomfortable. "Are you okay with being out here with me? You're not eating as much and you're working two jobs, not to mention you're really busy with school."

Nico groaned and then smiled at his bigger sister warmly. "Bibi, I – am – happy," he assured her confidently – well, mostly. "If I went back, I would be chewed out by Dad. If I never went with you then I'm sure the Underworld would get hotter. There's no place I'd rather be than right here with you."

Bianca gave him an admiring, beaming face, her eyes off the road. "Nico …"

"Eyes on the road! Eyes on the road!" Nico pointed to the road. Bianca gasped and turned her attention back on the road before they swerved off the lane.

Bianca turned on the radio, a song washing over the sombre atmosphere of the car.

_"Can we pretend that airplanes/ In the night sky are like shooting stars/ I could really use a wish right now/ wish right now …"_ "Airplanes" came playing. Nico banged his head against the back of his seat when Bianca began singing.

"Oh, c'mon, Neeks," she urged him. "Sing a little! I could really use a wish right now/ wish right now/ wish right now!" she sang in an off-tone voice that irritated his ears.

"Urrgh, fine," he groaned. "_Yeah, I could use a dream or a genie or a wish/ To go back to a place much simpler than this/ 'Cause after all the partyin' and smashin' and crashin'_."

Bianca whooped enthusiastically. "That's my little brother! Immature rap star subservient little brother!" she took one hand off the wheel just as they crossed a street on a green light to wrap around his shoulder. "Love you," she whispered in his ear.

"Love you too, Bi –"

He never finished what he said. All he could was alarms blaring in the air. The horrible sound of alarms.

* * *

_A wish right … a wish right … beep … beep … beep …_

Nico blinked his eyes open that suddenly wailed out in pain, trying to adjust to blinding white. His head felt groggy, hot knives being pressed into his skin and … ow! What the hell?

Nico tried to sit up, a hand coming to his chest to gently push him back down on his bed and a sweet voice that told him to go back to sleep. Nico listened and went back to sleep.

That stranger's hand felt like his father's when Nico was younger.

When Nico was fully awake and better – better as in a pounding headache and a bland taste in his mouth – a doctor came to his private hospital room.

There was an accident. Nico was sure. There was an accident. Bianca was his recurring thought in his head. Bianca. Where was she? What happened to her?

Dad had found them. How else would he have gotten the private room with a view by the garden? Nico stared aimlessly at the space next to the doctor who droned down that he sounded like sheep.

"You suffered a broken arm, minor bruising, a few scars but other than that, you're healing," the doctor listed. Nico couldn't care less. It wouldn't have matted if half his face was melted off or he lost an arm. He wanted his sister.

"Bianca …" Nico said raspy, looking at the doctor straight in the eye. The doctor tensed uncomfortably. "Where's my sister?"

The doctor gulped. "Mr di Angelo, there were, um, complications before the paramedics had arrived on the scene," the doctor said. Dread filled Nico. It wasn't nice. "Your sister – your sister, she had made a spilt second to protect you from getting harmed."

"Where is she?" Nico demanded.

"She – she –" the doctor stammered. "I'm sorry. She died before she even got to the hospital. Mr di Angelo? Mr –"

"_Get out_," he growled. Something sick was rising in his stomach, threatening an unpleasant release. His head began to pulse in pain. "Get the hell away from me!"

The doctor said nothing, gravely nodding and exiting the room quietly. Nico brought his hands up to his eyes.

One minute Bianca and Nico were singing along to that god awful song, the next he was here, hearing that his sister was dead. It couldn't – it can't be true. His world dizzied and he felt like he was going to be sick.

They … they … Bianca was going to become the best dancer in the Hunters and Nico was going to see every performance and they were going to travel the world and –

"Bianca," Nico moaned, hoping that this was all a dream and out of nowhere she would be there. "Please … Bianca … come back."

* * *

The funeral was a quiet affair. Almost everybody was crying since they all love her. Bianca was the golden girl in the family, not Nico who was an overenthusiastic Mythomagic maniac good-for-nothing piece of shit.

The minister was reciting the usual "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" sermon that Nico was beginning to hate. He sat next to his stepmother, Persephone, who was sobbing despite herself. She had never been nice to Nico – he strangely remember a time far, far away from now the time she had him dressed as a freaking dandelion for Halloween – but she loved Bianca like her own daughter. When her tissues became too soggy, Nico clenched his jaw and tossed a black handkerchief into her lap.

Strangely, she quickly glanced at him and took it, going back to crying.

His father, sitting next to Persephone, was staring at the coffin solemnly. He wasn't crying. Men of his family never cried in public.

And that also included Nico.

When he heard Bianca was dead and screamed for the doctor to leave, he hadn't cried. Not in public or in private. He just hurt.

It wasn't Bianca's fault that she died. It was a drunk driver's fault driving way past the limit who couldn't tell his right from his left. Nico was furious, more than he ever been in his life. He wanted to kill the man.

"Nico," his father said, coming beside him once the funeral had ended as they both stood before Bianca's grave, and continued, "Persephone and I are going … _home_," the word didn't sound like home on Hades' lip. "Are you coming?"

"I'm staying," Nico answered. "I need to be by myself right now, Father."

Hades cursed in Italian and took something out of his pocket. Nico opened his hand to accept it, his eyes opening fractionally once he realized what it was. It was a large signet ring, a skull wearing a Greek style helmet, feathers sticking out at the end, separating a "D" and "A".

His family's ring: the di Angelo family heirloom. Nico looked up for his father to find that he was already walking back to the car with Persephone. Nico stuffed it in his pocket.

He stared blankly at the tombstone. Now several meters underground was his sister's body. One day Nico was like that.

There was rustling not too far away from him. Nico saw a man with ruffled black hair sticking to one side of his head, the brightest sea green eyes staring at him and god-like features, wearing a black suit.

Nico recognized him. He saw the picture the police showed him. The drunk driver.

Instantly, Nico saw red. "What the …" he started out slowly. "What the _fuck_ are you doing here?"

The man held his hands in a sign of peace but Nico was far beyond reasoning. "I'm came here to apologize –"

"For what?!" Nico hissed, stomping towards him. "Driving drunk? Running a red light? Killing MY SISTER!" Nico shoved the man backwards roughly. Nico didn't know if whether he was too weak or the man was too strong to fall back.

"Please," the man rasped. Oh look, he was teary eyed. Like Nico cared! "That night, I wasn't –"

Nico raised his fist to hit the man straight on his face. The man stumbled back, not losing his balance, holding his nose. "I deserved that," he croaked.

_Damn right you do!_ Nico thought bitterly, wishing a thousand – no, wait, more – pains on this man. Nico clenched his fists, watching as the man straightened up. This guy was way too handsome to be a killer.

"I'm sorry," he said. Nico looked down, biting down his lips so hard that it drew blood. "I just … I wasn't thinking that night. And I know you don't my excuses because it isn't worth it."

It wasn't worth that his sister was dead because of this drunk bum. "I don't need your apologies," Nico hissed, not standing to look at the man out of fear that he would snap and do something he would regret. "Go away."

Nico didn't know how long he stood there but when he looked up in the cool night air, the driver wasn't standing there anymore. Something fell on Nico's hair and then another fell.

It started raining.

* * *

**Thanks for reading.**

**Now review if you don't want to release the wrath of Leo on you …**

**And thanks to JojotheObsessedFish for beta-ing this fic. Remember reviews if you keep this story alive. **


	2. Chapter 2: How I met Nico again

**Unforgiving Hate and Sorrowful Eyes**

**Chapter 1: The Street of Nightmares**

* * *

Percy Jackson thought he would be back here, walking on San Francisco soil as he navigated through the busy hustle of the airport, trying his best to stay awake.

The plane ride had been a nightmare. He was sitting economy next to an Indian man who was very verbal with his words and his moody wife. Then he had to wait five hours in freaking Singapore thanks to the very possible danger of one of the engine catching fire which it after they landed. Plus the hangover he had, courtesy of his brother's Triton – the new ladies' man in the family – partying in Ibiza, was not helping.

That fifth glass of vodka was a mistake.

In his exhaustion, a part of him felt restless, nervous, guilty; like if he stayed any longer he would be handed a death sentence.

"BROTHER!" somebody screamed.

He pasted the doors of the entrance to the airport, fatigued –customs were a pain everywhere– to hear that big bellow come from … oh, of course. What he saw brought a wide smile to his mouth.

Parked not too far away was a rich lux Maserati that anybody would drool for and the strangest trio consisting of a stocky Chinese Canadian boy, dark-skinned luminous golden-eyed girl and a much taller, muscular man who looked like a giant standing closely to it. Percy stopped, extending his arms.

"C'mon," he shouted at them, half of his lips curved into a smirk. "I know you wanna!"

They so did. Tyson was the first –of course, he would be first–to run up to Percy, lifting him off the ground, and crushed him in the most suffocating hug, he had received in years. Percy's face was turning red, life slowly leaving his body if Tyson hugged any tighter. Percy patted Tyson on the back.

Tyson was his cousin (well, the correct term was "brother" since Tyson kept calling him and Frank that since they were the height of three-legged stools; Tyson in this case the height of a broom) who showed open and admirable affection for Percy. Though right now, that love was killing Percy.

"Okay, big guy," Frank, his other cousin, told the much taller man jovially, "let the poor man breathe. I don't think he wants to die any time soon."

"'Kay!" Tyson agreed in his usual child-like manner. He dropped Percy gently on the ground, taking appreciative gulps of air. "How was the fishies?" the giant inquired.

Percy gulped, recalling his successful research trip in the Maldives. "It was great," Percy said. "We have large inhabitable places for the fishies and down in the south, we exclusively found a new type of fishie – small but really pretty."

"Yay!" Tyson squealed.

"Yay." Percy nodded. He turned his attention to his Chinese cousin and his sorta French girlfriend – wait, no, fiancée; there, on her ring finger, was a glittering ruby, pearl and diamond engagement ring. "Oh, yay, I hope I'm not late for the wedding."

"Of course not, doofus," Frank chuckled, hitting Percy lightly on the arm. "And if you were, I would kill you. It's only five days before the wedding."

"Nice to see you too, Bear Boy." Oh Frank, Tyson, Triton and he sure shared some great memories – really crazy, weird, great memories. "Hazel!" he hugged Hazel. She had grown quite beautifully. "What happened to you? You've grown!"

"Must be the pre-wedding glow," she guessed nonchalantly. Hazel Levesque had grown taller, her dark honey hair wavier and she looked more like her stunningly beautiful mother Marie before she passed. "Now I'm sure you're tired –"

"I was stuck in Singapore for five hours and sat next to an over-talkative Indian couple," Percy grumbled. "I classify as ready to die."

"No die," said Tyson softly, slightly pouting, the ends of his index fingers touching him. "Tyson no want Percy die."

"Don't worry. Percy no try dying this time," Percy assured him, winking at him. "Percy better now."

"Bags in the boot, Frank takes shotgun, I'm driving, no complaints," Hazel huffed grumpily, not liking that she was interrupted. No matter whose fault it was or what excuse you have, you did not fight with Hazel.

"Of course, your Majesty," Frank grumbled. Percy resisted laughing when Hazel glared murderously at her fiancée. "I hope I don't die before the wedding." Frank whispered to Percy, walking over to their car.

Percy looked from Frank to Hazel and back again, a mocking thoughtful look on his face. "If it's any consolidation, I give your marriage a week."

Frank scowled at Percy unappreciatively. "Oh thanks, asshole. It's nice to have you back."

"You're welcome, and it is nice to be back."

* * *

Percy had known Frank and Tyson since they were kids, being cousins and all. He was born in a wealthy man's household from a mistress' womb who died when he was three.

He was four but Percy could remember the first time he set eyes on his father in crystal clear detail. They looked alike: the same sea green eyes – his father's was always more enchanting, tan skin, messy black hair that couldn't be tamed to save their life and … um … Percy didn't to boast about it but in Hazel's admission "the good looks of a Roman god".

Percy didn't guess that was too bad. It helped with chicks even if most of his relationships ended on a really bad key – one was catastrophic.

He watched the passing city scene silently, his hand holding up his chin. Tyson chatted eagerly about a project he was doing with some guy whose name started with an "L", talking about bringing a childhood crayon drawing to life.

Tyson had been big about building stuffs since he was a kid. His love of mechanics and building was what actually held up a conversation with … a certain wise girl Percy once knew.

Frank found Percy's brooding face in the rear-view mirror and said, "Hey, do you remember the time we were playing on the beach on Montauk and Triton thought the sharks were dolphins?"

"Yeah …" Percy grumbled, his hand hiding his smile. "That was hilarious. Remind me to tell everybody that at your wedding."

"Sure."

"Dolphins are pretty," Tyson commented_. "Ee, ee, ee!"_ he poorly imitated the sound of a dolphin that sounded more like a pissed off monkey.

Hazel drove down another street, eyes determined on the road and instantly Percy recognized the small, insignificant street. It was anything but small and insignificant. Dread welled up in his stomach and he tried hard to keep a straight face.

It was Washbourne Avenue, the street of nightmares to Percy.

Percy tried to think of other things, what work events were coming up, people he needed to meet, failing when all he saw in his eyes was a mixture of rain, lights and a girl covering a smaller boy inside the wreckage of what was once a car.

Percy slammed the car window and roared, "STOP THE CAR!"

Everybody jumped, more surprised than scared, though there was a watchful expression on Frank's face that irritated Percy. Hazel pulled over, muttering something in French under her breath, as soon as they exited Washbourne Avenue.

Percy instantly got out of the car. Percy was taking shallow breaths, failing to block the images from his mind and failing to remember what that guy said in rehab.

There were passing eyes that glanced at him momentarily that then moved on. _Shit, shit, shit, shit_. He knew coming back here was a complete mistake. He ran a rough hand through his black hair.

_Calm down, Jackson_, he told himself. _Calm the hell down … deep breaths, in, out, in –_

"Brother?" Tyson came out of the car, a worried look of his face. Hazel and Frank had also exited the car, observing the black haired man warily. "Is Percy okay?"

Percy sucked in a breath. "Just remembered something unpleasant. Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Tyson brought it – thankfully; you did not want to have a persistent Tyson on you – though Frank and Hazel didn't seem too convinced, they didn't question it.

* * *

Percy would be staying at a hotel near where the happy engaged couple lived and close to Tyson's workshop. He didn't want to burden Frank or Hazel, he'd rather not be the third wheel and have to walk in on some intimate moments, plus Tyson could be overbearing and smothering.

"If you need us, you have our number," Hazel informed sternly, reminding Percy of one of his more caring teachers in elementary, once they dropped him off at the Lotus Hotel.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mom," he huffed. "I'm not a child. I can take of myself."

Hazel perked an unbelieving eyebrow as the blatant air in the car said "Like I believe that."

Percy scoffed at his friends. "Oh, go away the lot of you. I'm jetlagged and I wanna sleep more than look at all of you."

Frank scowled. "You heard the jerk_. Kāichē, Jīn._" Frank ordered in Chinese. Percy was pretty sure he said, "drive, Gold". No idea where the gold came from though. Hazel rolled her eyes and press on the accelerator to drive off into the busy San Francisco street.

His phone beeped to life in his pocket. _Don't forget, ur comin 2 da party 2nite at our apartment. Pick u up at 7 – HL._

Percy's face fell. _A party?_ Hazel had to be kidding him. He needed sleep, not another party. He had to go anyway. You did not fight Hazel Levesque.

Sleep was a welcomed stranger to Percy Jackson. He was thankful that he didn't dream of that night three years ago. If he did … there was a very high, very possible he would relapse into his depression.

Coming here was a mistake. He had to come because he owed it to Hazel and Frank. They were his friends and there was nothing he wouldn't do for his friends.

* * *

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_ Percy moaned into his pillow. "BROTHER! TIME TO WAKE-UP!" Tyson's voice boomed.

Percy lifted his head, blearily looking at his hotel room. "Go away!"

"HAZEL'S HERE!"

"I'm up, I'm up!" Percy leapt off the bed, running to his door and opened it. Tyson, Frank and Hazel stood there. Tyson was in extra-large casual dress while Frank wore an interesting Chinese ensemble and Hazel in a full skirt golden dress. "Hey, guys, what are you doing here?"

Hazel, Tyson and Frank exchanged questioning looks. "Really?" Frank questioned. "You forgot about the party? It's seven o'clock."

"What party –" Percy disappointedly frowned. "I was hoping to forget that."

"Just get dressed," Hazel said, pushing Frank inside Percy's room and shutting the door. "And make sure he's presentable!"

"Yes, _Jīn_." Frank agreed. He turned to Percy. "Get dressed," the Chinese Canadian ordered Percy firmly. "You are definitely not wearing your boxer shorts to the party."

"Aww," Percy pouted like a child. "But they're comfortable." Frank didn't change in demeanor. "God, humor with you guys is like talking to a dead person." Still no laughter. "Bright beam of joy you guys are."

"I have a soon-to-be brother and father-in-law that's worse. Just get dressed."

* * *

Hazel and Frank's apartment was a perfect mixture of the couple. New Orleans rustic jazz beauty clashed peacefully with Chinese oriental strong might. Jazz posters and Chinese character banners hung down the walls, simple ornaments from both cultures, not to mention the furniture was also pretty cool. People had already gathered at the apartment, a few Percy recognized from Jupiter Academy.

"I know it's a little early," said Percy walking inside unhappily, hands stuffed in his jeans, "but can I leave?"

Hazel scoffed in disbelief and rolled her eyes next to Percy. "You are just like my brother," she stated. "Hey, Ty –" she nudged the muscular giant. "It's Ella. Aren't you going to say hi?"

Percy grinned mischievously and raised an eyebrow. "Who's Ella?" Tyson blushed like a little schoolboy. "She your girlfriend?" Tyson played with his thumbs. "Wife?" Tyson sputtered.

"No," Hazel said. "She's just a girl who works at the local library. Her boss is a hungry, creep pain in the rear end though."

"And if Tyson has some more familial encouragement he might ask her out at last," Frank added, glancing at Percy intently.

A meek-looking petite redhead girl strolled shyly towards the quartet. "Hello, Hazel. Hello, Frank. Hello –" her cheeks reddened "Tyson. Who is this?" she looked curiously at Percy.

"This is Percy," Tyson introduced him proudly. "This is my brother!"

_"There's no other love like the love for a brother. There's no other love like the love from a brother,"_ Ella said, sounding more like a quote. "Ella never had a brother. Ella is pleased to meet Percy."

Percy blinked. "Um … yeah." Ella popped away, quoting to herself. Percy faced Tyson firmly. "Tyson, you must marry that girl."

"That's what I said!" Frank laughed.

* * *

Percy mingled, relieving more of his life, conversing with other people. They're not so bad. Not most of them. There are some memories he rather not drag up.

It's actually good – by good, he meant refreshing – to be around normal people who weren't family or work mates. He smiled, he joked, he mingled, even grabbing a girl's number.

Reyna. She was pretty in a piercing, strong sort of way, lacking in the spark that Percy wanted once more.

Tyson and Ella talked a lot, Percy noted, and were in close proximity of each other. Tyson had never lucky with the ladies. Like, never. They had mostly been grossed out when the giant paid them a compliment. High school in Half-blood certainly wasn't a happy time for him.

Hazel was showing off her ring to her friends, other girls admiring it like it was a million dollar diamond and kept bugging her on how Frank proposed. Hazel wasn't spilling, changing the topic or shying away.

Percy, after convincing – blackmailing was too strong a word – Frank to spill, Bear Boy gave in, very embarrassed. "Well, um, me and Haze were at my grandmother's and we were … _engaged_ …" Frank abashedly explained and Percy bit down his snicker. "And, er, my grandmother walked in on us." Percy didn't hold in the choke of laughter. "It's not funny! It was my grandmother's fault. She thought Hazel was, um, involved in a rather unpleasant profession so I accidentally called her my fiancée. Happy?"

"Amused. Very amused."

"How's Tri? Still a ladies man?"

"What d'ya think? I don't think Tritie's never going to change. One of his worst yet best qualities."

Triton – billionaire (from inheritance), playboy, philanthropist just about summed him up; the darker, more mysterious Tony Stark of the family who had the mind of a seven year old.

And big half-brother to Percy Jackson.

His mind was more on the ladies than on work which was pretty his number one priority since he was one day old. He would always hog the attention of Amphitrite and would unceasingly pursue the other sex.

"Percy!" Hazel jumped into their view, smiling and laughing. She lovingly pecked Frank on the cheeks and Percy kindly told them to get a room. Hazel smoothed down her curly hair and dress. "I have someone I want you to meet. He's my brother."

Percy smiled. "Hazel, I appreciate your efforts of finding me someone but –"

Hazels' smile fell. "I'm not trying to set you up, Percy," she sighed. "I just wanted you to meet more members of my family – my crazy, dysfunctional family."'

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "So who is this brother of yours?"

"Oh, come with me. Um, Frank, I think your friend Dakota needs help on the couch." She pointed in the general direction of a man sitting on the leather brown couch, staring up at the ceiling in a glassy daze. Frank moaned and stalked off to his friend.

Hazel led him from the living room to the balcony. It was a small, but large enough to fit four people, antique metal frames fencing it. A boy who looked like he was in his teens was drinking by himself.

Something flickered in Percy's head but he wasn't sure what.

Hazel slid open the glass panel door and stepped through it. Percy sucked in a breath when the boy turned around, holding the same shocked face as he did.

The boy was pale, dark spots and bags under his eyes, his hair looking like he had come out of bed at two in the morning. He wore an aviator's jacket to protect him from the cold, a band tee and a pair of chain-belted black skinny jeans.

The boy was staring back at Percy in panic, then for a spilt second, anger, finally contained temperament. Around his wineglass, his grip tightened that Percy thought he was going to smash it.

"Neeks," Hazel chirped happily, unaware of what spired between the two men. "This is my friend from JAU, Percy Jackson." She gestured to the green-eyed man.

The boy's jaw tightened, eying Percy carefully, before he stuck out his hand out for him reluctantly. "Hello, Percy," the boy spat, "I'm Nico di Angelo."


End file.
